This Time was Different
by PSU93Girl
Summary: A short post-finale fic from Fi's POV. It's kinda silly, I know, but it was something I noticed as the episode aired and it's stuck with me. I won't be offended if you don't like it. :


A/N: I'm going to finish "Apologies," so sorry for the delay but things have been hectic lately. I've had a few thoughts about the aftermath of "Devil You Know" and since I can't sleep right now I decided to write. There have been so many great post-finale fics, I can only hope this is at least half as good as them.

I still don't own Mike, Fi, et al. Sadly.

************

He found me sitting on the steps outside the loft. Michael's loft. There was really nowhere else for me to go, even though I knew Michael wouldn't be there.

My head was still spinning with all that had happened the past few days—Michael watching as Gabriel held a gun on me, then saving both of us from the warehouse fire; Gilroy planning another job for Michael and then ending up dead at the hands of a maximum security prisoner who later escaped. Michael, Sam, and I meeting at the emergency emergency spot. Maddie calling on the emergency emergency phone. I sighed as I thought of Michael's apology, his promise that we were all in this together.

"Fi? You OK? I've been calling and calling," Sam said, stopping at the bottom of the steps and leaning on the railing. I could see in his face the worry I felt—and which I was sure he saw in my face. We were both stunned.

"Michael's gone Sam, how could you _possibly_ think I'd be OK?" I replied, a bit harsher than was warranted but it was that kind of day.

"Come on Fi, he's been gone before. He'll find his way back, or we'll find him. You know that."

I sighed. He was right, of course, but there was something different about this time. And even though I knew it was silly, to me it felt like it might very well make a huge difference.

After we watched Michael drive off after Simon, Sam had called the FBI as Michael requested. The two of us then got out of there, driving aimlessly around Miami until Maddie's phone call. Sam and I located Michael's Charger and he took it to go get Maddie.

The next few hours were pretty much a blur. Sam had called to say Maddie was safe and he was taking her home. I drove around to all of our rally points, knowing Michael wouldn't be there but checking them all twice anyway. I returned to my apartment but I couldn't sit still there. Michael's loft was calling me, so here I sat.

"Fi, you have to hold it together. We have to start looking for Michael. Let's go to Maddie's house and work on a plan," Sam continued, obviously uncomfortable with my current emotional state.

"Let's search the loft first," I replied, looking up at the shattered windows. I smiled as I pictured Michael creating a fiery, explosive diversion to facilitate his escape earlier this afternoon.

I couldn't stop the tear that ran down my cheek as I thought about what had happened after that.

"You didn't search it yet?" Sam asked, pretending not to notice that I was crying.

"No, I checked all our other places first, I've only been here a little longer than you. This is as far as I got."

We entered the loft, the sound of broken glass crunching under our feet. A block of C4 sat on the workbench where Michael and I had built so many explosives and listening devices. I was glad I had insisted he hide it here. Without it he might have been captured by the FBI.

But that would have been better than where things stood now, wouldn't it? At least then we'd know where he was. And it might not matter how different things were this time.

After a while Sam stated the obvious—there was nothing there that was going help us. We cleaned up, taped some plastic over the windows, making plans to replace them in the morning, and locked up tight. It was time to go to Maddie's.

Maddie was still keyed up after her ordeal with the FBI. She sat at her kitchen table, chain smoking with a half-full bottle of vodka and an empty glass in front of her. She ran across the room and hugged me when we walked in. I loosely returned her hug, afraid of completely losing it.

"How can we find him?" Maddie asked me. "I need to help you two do this."

"We're working on it Maddie," Sam said, "and I'm going to go talk to some contacts who might be able to help. You two OK here for a while?"

I assured him we were and took a seat at the table. Maddie and I shared a few glasses of vodka before she said she was tired. She went to lie down, making me promise to get her the second I heard anything. I promised and headed into the living room. I settled on the couch, badly in need of some rest.

I closed my eyes and the memories came flashing back. Standing by Michael's car as he loaded the trunk, thinking that at least we were going to get to say goodbye this time. Driving up to the loft, seeing Michael working on his car as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't driven away. Michael asking to borrow my car as Victor waited nearby. A phone call from a hotel as the police were closing in. Watching Michael walk through Maddie's backdoor and into the yard, finally free from jail.

Sam was right; Michael had left and come back to us before. But this time was different.

Standing by his car as he loaded the trunk, he had kissed me goodbye.

Standing near my car as Victor waited nearby, I had kissed him, "Just in case."

This time there had been no kiss. And although I knew it was silly, and probably stupid, I couldn't shake the feeling that it was a kiss that had brought him safely back to me those other times. Tears slid down my cheeks as I chastised myself. It had nothing to do with whether we shared a goodbye kiss. Michael was skilled and resourceful and if there was any way he could find his way back to me he would. It had nothing to do with a kiss.

But what if it did?


End file.
